


Masquerade

by Snekki_Boi



Series: Kink Dice [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snekki_Boi/pseuds/Snekki_Boi
Summary: Some years ago, before the apocalypse-that-wasn't, our couple actually found each other far more interested in intimacy than was probably allowed. And that all started with a stupid party.





	Masquerade

The vast hall shone with crystalline light and swayed with music and dancers. Crowley watched from the side, fanning himself. His flaming curls were tied up into an elegant ponytail and his black dress glittered as it fell in sinful waves. It would be a lie to say that no one in the room looked. It was hard for people to describe exactly how he looked, but they could confidently say that he was beautiful. 

Across the room, Aziraphale caught Crowley's eyes and gave a little excited wave, excusing himself from a conversation and wandering over to the demon. 

"Crowley! Fancy seeing you here," he said. 

Crowley eyed his tailored suit, fit to true Victorian style. It was simple but somehow very appealing still. He smiled at the angel. "Aziraphale. Here for a little miracle?" 

"Well, you know, I don't usually attend these types of gatherings without authoritative reasoning. Might I say the same for you? Tempting someone, perhaps?" 

He nodded. His eyes were veiled by black netting, curling over his face from his hat. This gave him better opportunity to stare at Aziraphale in discretion. Oh, how I'd love to do more than look, his far-back mind said. 

"The pudding's delightful," Aziraphale said. 

"Angel," Crowley interrupted, eyes flickering over to a man in a black suit. Crowley almost frowned when he saw the man. "I'm afraid our time must be cut short." 

Aziraphale looked stunned for a second but quickly recovered with a halfhearted smile. "Oh. Alright, then. I... suppose I will see you another time?" 

"Of course," Crowley wanted to say. "As many times as you'd like." But he bit his serpentine tongue and only gave another nod, already pushing himself toward his target. He let his hips sway a little too much and although the attention in the room on him was flattering, he was really only doing it for Aziraphale. At least, he hoped Aziraphale was looking. He put a hand to his hip just as he stopped by the man's side - a nobleman. "Lord Kalifere? You're looking rather dashing today." He nearly gagged on his own words, but a temptation was a temptation, regardless of how it was executed. 

Kalifere eyed Crowley slowly, almost as if he were savoring him with his eyes. Somewhere in the back, where company was little, a celestial fire was lit in an angel's chest. Kalifere grinned. "And what brings a pretty songbird to my presence?" 

"Pretty songbird?" Crowley questioned, batting his eyelashes. From the corner of his eyes, he saw that Aziraphale _was_ watching him, frozen in place as if time had stopped. "Pretty songbird like Lady Kalifere?" 

The lord's grin strained against the annoyed look in his eyes. "She's busy. Out of the country." 

"Oh, I see." Crowley leaned in just a little closer for affect and- Did Aziraphale just crack his champagne glass? The angel fussed over it and tore his gaze away from Crowley. So the demon continued with his job. "A hall of pretty songbirds," he said, holding his fan over his lips. 

"None as pretty as the songbird before me," Kalifere said, reaching out for his hand. 

Crowley shied away from him, holding his disgust barely at bay. "Lady Secilene is quite the dancer, I hear. Quite... flexible. And able." He let lust slip into the noble's heart and watched as Kalifere turned to look at the lady Crowley pointed out. "She's been eyeing you all night, My Lord. Don't make her wait." 

Kalifere stared, gaze faraway. 

In true serpent of Eden fashion, Crowley leaned close to Kalifere's ear and whispered, "Smooth alabaster skin beneath your palms. Wouldn't you like to know how silky they feel?" And his mind drew a picture of an angel, gasping and shivering beneath him, and indeed, he had smooth alabaster skin that was as silky as his unseen wings. At least that's how Crowley imagined it. In two blinks, Kalifere was off to speak with his next songbird. 

Crowley snapped his fan closed and retrieved a glass of champagne for himself. He really needed it if he was going to imagine fucking a holy being. Then he saw Aziraphale again, glaring daggers at the lord of the ball. Angels must really hate the unfaithful, Crowley thought to himself and downed his drink. 

* * *

As the night turned deeper and darker, the attendees donned masks. Some were of animals, some of mere design. And if you were Crowley, it was dark enough to shield your face for mystery. There was just the slightest bit of silver to ensure it wasn't just a drab matte. Still, the allure of the look itself was what drew the onlookers.

Crowley had had a bit too much to drink. His eyes were glittering - which the few that caught a glimpse of blamed the mask itself - as he searched for purchase of reason. The music seemed too loud and the people too many. Crowley was aware that several people braved his presence and asked for a dance, a talk, a place of meeting outside the masquerade. He bluntly refused each and every one, almost creating a challenge to see who was good enough to woo him. Crowley ignored it all and continued to drink and eventually, the throb of human activity was too much, and he had to step outside into the back courtyard. 

"Fuck," he grumbled to himself, sitting on a stone bench. He had lost his fan at some point. He didn't care. He was drunk on champagne and unholy thoughts. 

"Quite crude for a lady to curse at a formal outing," a voice said. 

"If you're looking for a dance partner, I'm not interested," Crowley said, not looking up. "If you'd like to stick any part of you into any part of me, I suggest you look elsewhere, like the streets." 

The voice chuckled. "Crowley, it's me!" 

He turned to see Aziraphale, hidden behind a mask decorated in gold and swan feathers. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked, blinking to focus. 

"You seemed... overwhelmed inside. I thought I should check up on you." 

"Just to make sure the Arrangement is still on?" Crowley scoffed. Well, he tried to scoff. It sounded more like a sputter. 

Aziraphale turned his head in alarm, as if Crowley had just called for all of Heaven and Hell as audience to their fraternizing. He gave a sigh and reached to remove Crowley's mask. The demon flinched but didn't stop him. 

"Mind if I take a seat?" 

Crowley made space beside him for Aziraphale and leaned on a hand, closing his eyes. "Why are you here?" 

"Well, there was the influence of political speak between a small gathering of women. It could very well turn the tides of-" 

"No," Crowley interjected, raising a hand and shifting his torso to face the angel with opened eyes. "Why are you _here_. In the courtyard. With me." 

Aziraphale took off his own mask and laid it next to Crowley's on the bench between them. He stared at the masks for a moment, thumbing over the designs. Then he looked up to Crowley's eyes. They were beautiful, albeit slanted with inebriation. "I care for you, Crowley," he whispered, as if the words might hurt him. 

"Care for me?" he repeated. 

Aziraphale winced. "Yes. I care." 

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, waiting for him to laugh and say it was all a joke and that Crowley was a fool for believing such a thing and that they were hereditary enemies or some such. But Aziraphale didn't say anything, didn't laugh. It was almost like the angel was holding his breath. Crowley's mind, drunk as it was, edged him closer. When Aziraphale didn't say anything about that either, Crowley kept leaning until, gently, his lips touched Aziraphale's. And then they were pushing against each other, masks knocked off somewhere. Aziraphale's hand found Crowley's nape while his other caught onto his waist. Crowley let his hands flutter over Aziraphale's back. He wished there wasn't so much cotton in the way, then Aziraphale pulled back and Crowley felt as though the world had ended. 

"My dear," Aziraphale said, breathless. "You're drunk." 

Crowley made a noise in his throat - maybe a whine, maybe a groan. "Didn't think. Sorry, angel. Didn't think." Crowley leaned back. "I won't touch you again." 

Aziraphale reached for Crowley but stopped inches from actually grabbing him back. He looked distressed. Then, softly, he murmured, "Please touch me again." 

Little by little, Crowley drew the alcohol from his system. Only little by little, so as not to crash into such an abruptly intimate moment fully sober. Crowley kissed Aziraphale again, tugging on his ruffle collar. When Aziraphale let Crowley's tongue slip in, the demon lost it. He tore away the collar just as his sobriety returned, unbuttoning the waistcoat. He only hesitated to look up questioningly at Aziraphale. The angel set his hands on either side of Crowley's hips and pressed a gentle, needy kiss to his jaw. 

"Are you sure?" Crowley asked, voice husky. 

"I want it," Aziraphale admitted. "I want you." 

Crowley snapped his fingers and they were suddenly sitting on a silken sheet bed. The only light source was a candelabrum on the nightstand. 

"Crowley. Where are we?" Aziraphale asked, slightly panicked. 

"Borrowed a room," Crowley replied, pulling off Aziraphale's trousers. "Don't worry, angel. No one will know we're here." He buried his face into the crook of Aziraphale's neck and began nipping and sucking. 

Aziraphale groaned, tilting his head back. "Crowley. Your dress." Distractedly, Aziraphale pulled at the ribbon intricately lacing Crowley's dress and undid it, coaxing the fabric off Crowley's body. "You look... divine." 

"Shut up," he growled, suddenly pushing Aziraphale onto his back. "I'm not divine. I'm unholy." 

"You at least feel divine," Aziraphale insisted, grinding his hips upwards. He resisted the urge to do it a second time. 

"Oh, don't stop, angel." Crowley finished undressing them both and gave Aziraphale a hot kiss, rubbing their erections together. "Wouldn't have expected you to carry an effort." 

"Last minute decision," Aziraphale mumbled, blushing a deep red. It could have been from embarrassment or it could have been from the heat or even from both. Regardless, Crowley thought he looked absolutely delectable like that. 

He slid down to kneel between Aziraphale's legs and licked a slow, long trail on either side of his inner thighs - just missing the precious center. 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale moaned, hips twitching upwards. "You're... teasing me." 

The demon nodded and nipped, suddenly moving to take the tip into his mouth. He loved the sounds that came from his angel: little gasps, groans, and his name on his tongue like a prayer. Crowley was moving slowly, taking his time to adjust his throat to Aziraphale's length. He made sure to take a little more extra time to flick his tongue over his slit as well. 

"Oh, Crowley! Oh, that feels good! But... I think I might like it faster..." 

Crowley obliged, speeding up until the hit against the back of his throat was more prominent every bob. Aziraphale's fingers tangled into Crowley's hair as the angel continued to moan out his name and encouragements. 

"Yes, that's it. You're so good, Crowley! Oh, yes. So good." 

Aziraphale's hardened cock throbbed in Crowley's mouth. The demon tightened his throat and Aziraphale shuddered, coming with a cry. Crowley swallowed it all happily, watching his angel's expression as he came down from his high. 

"Wonderful," the angel breathed, gently pulling Crowley up over him and kissing his demon. "You were so wonderful." 

"Think you can return the favor?" Crowley felt his painfully hard length twitch against his leg. 

"I may not be as skilled as you, but I do wish to try," he said, sitting up and flipping their positions. Aziraphale kissed Crowley's throat then trailed little kisses over his chest then his hips then his thighs. He nipped at a jewel and Crowley gasped. 

"Fuck, angel!" He bucked up into the air, searching for contact. 

Aziraphale smiled before taking in his entire length all at once. Crowley moaned loudly, one hand immediately in Aziraphale's hair while his other fisted the sheets. Crowley moaned again when Aziraphale began to move. 

"Yessss!" Crowley hissed. "Fuck, yesss! Oh, give me more, angel! More! Nng, yes!" 

Aziraphale sped up earlier than Crowley had, eliciting noises that made his own cock give an occasional twitch. And soon, Crowley came, hips stuttering and thighs quivering. Aziraphale swallowed in wonder as he stared at Crowley. How beautiful, he thought, releasing his demon's cock. 

"Might have to do that again another time," Crowley mumbled tiredly as he got up to cleanse and redress himself. 

"Perhaps," Aziraphale agreed wistfully as he followed Crowley's redressing. "I would like that." 

Crowley's eyes softened. "You would?" 

"Though this was likely just a heat of the moment happenstance," Aziraphale said reluctantly. "There isn't a possibility that an angel and a demon could keep seeing each other like this. It's simply unheard of!" 

Though hurt, Crowley said nothing. He simply nodded and walked out, fixing his hair with a miracle. 


End file.
